Читать книгу A Road Well-Traveled - Thomas Walsh - Страница 5

Ski’s last name was a jumble of 20 consonants and vowels ending with the three letters ski. It was a name that was impossible to pronounce for everyone except the Polish people who lived in the Calumet region on the far southeast side of Chicago where Ski grew up. Non-Poles started to call him Ski when he was just a kid and the name stuck.

The Calumet region and much of the area along the southwestern shore of Lake Michigan in Illinois and Indiana developed into a major industrial complex of steel mills, refineries, foundries, electric generating plants and chemical companies. The proximity to cheap transportation on the Great Lakes, canals and rivers attracted heavy industry to the area in the 1800’s. The development of a major rail hub in the Chicago area made it an industrial powerhouse in the early 1900’s.

The area Ski grew up in the 1920’s and 30’s was a cauldron of pollution. Smoke billowed forth from massive industrial chimneys darkening the sky. Waterways were dumping grounds for all sorts of industrial waste. But, the Poles and other immigrants attracted to the area for jobs didn’t care. Smokestacks pouring pollution into the sky meant there was work, jobs, food, clothing, housing and the chance of a better future for their families.

Ski was a happy-go-lucky kid. He had a thick head of hair which tended to hang down across his brow, a broad smile and an impish look in his eye. Ski was a great baseball player and could dance the Polka with gusto long after the dance floor cleared. The girls loved him. He graduated from high school. College was never a consideration. He got a job with the same steel mill that his father, brothers, uncles and cousins worked at.

World War II dramatically changed the face of the region. Ski and all the eligible young men were drafted to fight in Europe and the Pacific. Mexican immigrants were imported in vast numbers to temporarily replace the draftees. It was said that there were more Mexicans in the area during the War than anyplace else except Mexico City. They called themselves Chicanos. America flexed its industrial muscle to ramp up the war effort. Huge defense department investments dramatically increased production capacity at steel mills, refineries and other war critical industries. The region became a major center in what would be referred to as the “Industrial Heartland” of the United States.

Ski returned from the war in the Pacific. His job at the steel mill was waiting for him. He married, raised a family and eventually bought a small bungalow in a new housing tract in the area. Each home was the same except for minor variations in color and floor plan. Life was good.

***

At the steel company, Ski moved from the mill floor to a production reporting job and eventually a job in accounting. His strengths were his personality, reliability, loyalty, hard work and dedication. His weaknesses were vision, creativity, adapting to change and no formal training in accounting or college degree.

Ski loved his job. He lived to come to work. During baseball season he listened to Cub’s games on a radio he kept in a partially open desk drawer. Everyone including management knew but no one ever said a word. That was Ski. Everyone loved him. At the company Christmas parties he was always the first man on the dance floor. When he came back from vacation and someone asked him how it was, he always said he would rather be at work, “Work? Dis isn’t work. Dis is vacation!”

Over time the pace of change began to get the best of Ski. Management became increasingly frustrated with his inability to adapt to change and the unpleasant surprises that came as a result of it. Ski knew that he was no longer appreciated by his bosses. He also knew he had nowhere else to go. At 60 he was too young to retire. He wanted to get 50 years in to fatten up his pension. Most of his friends were at the steel company. He decided to hunker down and accept whatever happened. He was a simple man. Ego did not enter into his decision processes. Ski kept his thoughts to himself, except when he was with friends. And even then he spoke quietly so no one else would hear. He was a survivor.

***

When it happened, it still took Ski by surprise. Tim was promoted to be head of a newly formed business unit that included Ski’s responsibilities. Ski now reported to Tim. While Ski was not happy, he accepted the change. But the old timers who were friends of Ski’s didn’t take it quietly. They were shocked that a staid old steel company would put a young, wet behind the ears MBA like Tim in a position of responsibility over Ski. Every chance they had they made snide remarks about Tim. They worked to undercut him whenever they had an opportunity that did not reflect badly on them. While the old timers were upset about what happened to Ski, what they really feared was that the same thing would eventually happen to them.

***

The uproar finally settled into a grudging, low key guerrilla war with the old timers other than Ski. Because he was a survivor, Ski knew he had to cooperate with his new boss. At first he didn’t offer Tim help or suggestions, but when asked he never held back either. Tim knew he had to develop a working relationship with Ski and the people in his business unit. He realized quickly that Ski liked when Tim asked him not only direct questions but his opinion on issues as well.

“Ski, what do you think we should do about the excess scrap problem at Toll Coater in Michigan,” asked Tim as he read another dismal performance report from a contract steel painting company.

“Well Tim,” Ski said as he turned around in his chair from the desk in front of Tim and leaned forward so others would not hear what he had to say.

“Dat’s just part of da problem wid dem. Dey run high scrap in der coating operation and forget to report da heads and tails dey crop off the ends of the coils. Bang! Before ya know it ders an inventory shrink.”

Tim thought a moment about what Ski said. Then he leaned in even closer to Ski to respond. Ski liked the importance he felt when he was part of a secret discussion in front of everyone else in the bullpen.

“Do you think our operations people know what’s going on?”

Ski smiled with a twinkle in his eye and said, “All dey care about is getting da steel painted and shipped to General Motors. Da rest of da details are an accounting problem as far as der concerned.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. He thought to himself. This is where Ski would get himself in trouble. Ski new about problems but didn’t speak up. He didn’t want to make waves. It was less difficult for him to let things go until they blew up in his face. There was always hell to pay for a few days, but management eventually forgot until the next crisis. That is until they had enough and put Tim in charge. Tim resolved that he wouldn’t let himself fall into the same trap.

“Ski, let’s go pay our friends at Toll Coater a visit next week. Please set it up. I’ll let our operations people know we are planning a visit.

Ski looked down and said, “O’K Tim, if dat’s what you want to do.”

Tim could tell from the slow way that Ski swung his chair around to his desk that he did not want to make the trip. Ski hated being put in the middle of a possible confrontation with the people he knew at Toll Coater and now possibly operation’s personnel he worked with as well.

***

A week later Tim and Ski drove over to Ann Arbor to spend the night before calling on Toll Coater in the morning. They stayed in Ann Arbor because Tim liked a restaurant there called the Gandy Dancer.

The Gandy Dancer was located inside the Amtrak Depot in Ann Arbor. The name came from railroad workers who travelled the track beds looking for loose spikes to be hammered back into the ties. It was a fun place that erupted into bells and whistles whenever a train pulled in.

Tim and Ski got a table near the trackside windows. It gave them a ringside seat for the fun. Ski enjoyed the commotion and party atmosphere as Tim expected he would. It was a good opportunity to unwind and get to know each other.

Over the next two hours Tim and Ski shared background on their lives and families. In many respects they were a lot alike – from immigrant families, middle class, Catholic, worked hard for what they had. Just born in different times that shaped them into what they were. When the conversation drifted it invariably moved back to the common ground of business.

“Ski, we should make a schedule to visit each one of our major business partners once a year. Who do you think we should visit next?”

“Dat’s easy,” Ski said in a slightly slurred voice loosened by a few stiff drinks.

He leaned forward with a thick shock of hair hanging across his forehead. “Coil Slitting in Cincinnatah.”

“Why them?” Tim asked.

“Cause when you see dem, you’ll see da best. Dey know der business. It runs like a Swiss watch. Good quality, high yields, never a shrink problem. And nice! Dey are da easiest people to get along with. It must have sometin’ to do wid where der from.”

The conversation jogged Ski’s memory about a war time experience in the Philippines.

“My unit jus’ arrived at a town ‘cross a river from where der was Jap battalion dug in. An outfit from Cincinnatah was launch’n an attack to root dose bastards out of der. All through da night we watched the flash of explosions and gunfire from our foxholes along the river. We heard dose Cincinnatah boys fight’n, scream’n and dy’n and all da time we was safe in our foxholes eat’n, drink’n, read’n letters from home. All the time dey was dy’n!”

Ski stopped unable to go on, choked with emotion. But he had to finish his story. It had been bottled up in him for 30 years. It had to get out.

After wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, Ski forced himself to finish the story.

“Da next morn’n the battle was over. Da Cincinnatah boys had won. We moved out and crossed da river to mop up any Japs dey did’n get. On da way we was passed by trucks go’n de other way. I turned to see what dey was carry’n. I saw the bodies of does brave boys stacked like cord wood with der bare feet stick’n outta da back of the trucks. A sight I’ll never forget. Never.”

***

Tim and Ski worked together for several years. They developed a mutual respect for each other. Tim knew Ski’s weaknesses but he also knew his strengths. He relied on those strengths and grew to admire him for the unique individual he was. When Tim was promoted again he toasted Ski at his farewell party. He saw the appreciation in his eyes before Ski looked away.